


thanks varuna

by toskliviydays



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:52:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3128573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toskliviydays/pseuds/toskliviydays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'it was raining so hard i wasnt paying attention as i ran into the side of your car/you/your umbrella but were both drenched now and also hey there'</p><p>lavi is useless</p>
            </blockquote>





	thanks varuna

**Author's Note:**

> OH RIGHT so in a modern au i have with my friend group bookman goes by vidya, and for convenience's sake they say it's their last name. also they are very muslim. but this is a story for another time.
> 
> im trying to figure out where on his ~character development~ timeline this is but i figure??? idk in aus it's a bit different anyway you know because the situations they were exposed to and the historical context is all different, so it's all a little less severe??? though doug is definitely still like THIS GUY IS SO SKETCH YIKES

Lavi has just moved to this city.

It had taken well over a year to convince his grandfather, Vidya, to let him go to university, and for plenty good reason. For one, he is barely self-sufficient; he absorbs himself in work for hours, takes haphazard naps, and is subsequently late for any appointment he is not reminded of. He can barely cook, having spent so long eating out on most nights, and his organizational skills, though he swears up and down they are centered around his  _own personal system_  and to clean up would  _ruin it,_ are… notably lacking. 

All the same, he argued that his interpersonal understanding was, frankly,  _terrible_ , and being cooped up with only his grandfather for so long did nothing to change that. He could hardly expect to be a functioning member of society-- or of their ' _family_ '-- if he couldn’t even pretend he knew how to interact with others.

In reality, he just wanted a bit of space— he didn’t care for people and honestly had a terrible habit of holding himself above their ridiculous, sensationalist ways— but his logic was… sound enough. In their line of work, they needed plenty of context. His grandfather was worried about Lavi not being monitored, but Lavi reminded him that he could not be entirely dependent on his grandfather all his life. He would die, eventually. Lavi didn’t need to learn to be a human being again in his grief.

It was a bit unfair, but that seemed to work.

Now, he kind of regrets it.

The weather reports predicted rain for the latter portion of the day, but Lavi had hoped to be done cataloguing the selection of his campus’ library with enough time to get back to his dorm in one dry, wholesome piece. (He had been wrong, of course— he knew this was the case the moment he’d entered the building. It was larger than he’d anticipated.) Worst of all, however, the  _weather report_  had been wrong, too; this wasn’t a drizzle. It was a full-on downpour, and he was  _offended_. He didn’t have the clothes for this weather; he was  _freezing_ , and  _wet_ , and he couldn’t fucking  _see_ —

And really, he should have expected this.

Before he quite knows what has happened, he registers an impact, and a yell, and a splash, and the fact he has a cut across his cheek. Presumably from the umbrella that he’s walked right into, presumably previously held by the young man who was sitting with his ass in a puddle, looking for all the world as if his day could not get worse. Lavi stares owlishly at him. The man stares miserably back.

This lasts for about ten seconds before Lavi actually realizes what he’s done.

He jumps into action, then, energy suddenly sparking through his body as he kneels down beside his unwitting victim, smiling apologetically. “Wow, I’m really sorry. I didn’t look where I was going; my bad. Do you need help up?”

The man keeps staring at him for a moment— Lavi thinks, dimly, that it is rather  _rude_ — before he reaching out to grab Lavi’s proffered hand. “Thank you. You seemed like you were in a hurry.  I can imagine why, in this rain; you don’t even have an umbrella.”

Lavi looks down at the one that had hit his face, realizing suddenly that, oh, neither does this guy. Now. Because he ran into him. That was  _awful_. He laughs nervously, crouching down to pick it up and offer it back to the man. “And now you don’t, either. Sorry. Again.”

But he just smiles ruefully, taking the umbrella and closing it, tucking it under his arm. “It doesn’t really matter, I guess; I’m already soaked through. Uhm!” As if suddenly realizing the possibly passive-aggressive edge to his statement, he raises one palm in peace. “Not! That I meant to seem rude. It’s okay. My dorm’s just across the street. So.”

Lavi narrows his eye. This guy… seems like a disarmingly good person. It almost felt fake. But there is unease in his stance, and Lavi figures that it might have a little to do with the way he is sizing him up. He thought he hadn’t been very obvious about it. Maybe the other is just incredibly intuitive.

"Juniper Hall, you mean? I’m there too. The least I could do is walk with you back. It’s a shame you got so wet."

The other student looks nervous.

Remembering that they are, in fact, still strangers, Lavi offers his hand for the second time in as many minutes. “Sorry; I’m Lavi. We should probably be getting out of the rain. Before we get sick.”

That seems to do the trick. The other man straightens up, apparently broken out of his trance. “Right. Yeah, sorry.” He gives Lavi a short shake as they began walking, almost pulling his hand away too fast. “I’m Doug. You’re, uh, pretty distinctive, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. Are you a freshmen?”

Lavi has not had many casual conversations with people his age. He’s flirted with girls, of course, either to distract them or to get to know town gossip, but that’s different. He can tell well enough when a girl isn’t interested, and he it’s easy because he is not trying get people to like  _him_ , but with Doug… it seems ambiguous. He doesn’t think first introductions are supposed to be this awkward, even if it  _is_ because he’d bumped into Doug in the rain.

Lavi smiles, attempting to turn up his charm. “I guess I am! I managed to test out of a bunch of the lower level classes, though.”

"Oh," Doug intones, hustling under the roof of their building as they approached. He shakes out his umbrella and begins trying to ring out his clothes as much as is appropriate. Lavi does not bother. "Were you an AP student? I know a few people who transferred in with enough credits to pretty much skip their first semester."

"Nah. Well, I mean, sort of?" He scratches at his cheek. "I was homeschooled, essentially, but I took a bunch of the tests for that reason. Also because it seemed silly not to, since I knew everything already. I don’t want to waste my time like that."

Doug snorts, shaking out his hair for a second. “Well, you sure are confident.” He’s smiling, a bit, but Lavi feels like he’s being made fun of. He’s definitely being made fun of. Rather than retort— it would be  _childish_ — he leans forward to open up the door to the building, now that Doug seems done with his dog-like shaking out. “What about you, then?”

"I’m a sophomore, studying criminal justice." Doug smiles, and for a moment Lavi thinks that is just too dark a profession for someone with such an honest face.

They move to the front desk, Doug greeting the student working there before they pass through the doors into the actual dorms themselves. As they enter the elevator, neither of them speak, and Lavi feels anticipation rippling up his stomach, like there is something he is expected to do but he is not sure what it is. He glances over to Doug, curious, but the upperclassman is looking at the silver wall as if he can see his reflection in the pitted surface. He looks small.

"How old are you? You look young."

It slips out without him quite meaning to and Doug seems to slump down into himself, smiling the sort of smile that says he’s heard that before. Plenty of times. “Of course you’d say that.” Lavi wonders what, exactly, that is supposed to mean.

After a moment, though, Doug straightens up. It seems awkward for him to have anything but perfect posture. “I’m 20, actually. I changed my major last year from sociology, so I’m a second year sophomore. Credits, you know, and major requirements.”

That fits, Lavi thinks. Doug feels like a very empathic person. Which is perhaps why he seems to feel so awkward in Lavi’s presence. Lavi knows he rarely gives off much of anything besides  _calculating_  if he is not projecting a persona, so… he should probably do that.

He laughs lightly. “That fits you, I think! I don’t know what I want to do. I might not even get a degree, honestly. Maybe in mathematics. I’m good at that. And history. But I’ve been studying history all my life— my grandpa’s a historian— so I feel like that would be a waste of time. You know?”

Doug gives him a look, almost as if he is surprised and almost uncomfortable with Lavi’s sudden exuberance, but he smiles back all the same. “I guess. But if you learned everything from one person, there’s probably some bias in there somewhere. It might be good to get a different perspective.”

Lavi wants to give an honest laugh— a derisive one— because Doug can’t possibly know the extent to which his family works to erase bias from their records. But it’s irrelevant. Lavi probably shouldn’t have brought his grandpa up at all, but… he feels like it was something he ought to. Not for any  _real_ reason, but more like he needs to fill the quiet. Doug looking uncomfortable makes him feel like he’s failed.

Before he can respond, however, Doug suddenly jumps toward the buttons on the wall, looking frantic. “Oh my god! We forgot to pick a floor so it just took us… to the top… Uhm!” He looked at Lavi, a little pathetically. “Which floor are you on?”

This time when Lavi smiles it feels a little wibbly, like he can’t quite tell if he should make fun of Doug or take pity on him. Instead he says, “five,” and then, “do you want to get coffee some time?”

Doug stares at him. Lavi blinks. Doug goes a little red, and Lavi thinks, wow, he didn’t… expect that… though there is no reason he shouldn’t have,

"Uhm."

The door opens on the fifth floor. Lavi puts his hand on the edge of the automatic door and waits.

"Uh!"

Lavi thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have asked.

Suddenly, Doug reaches into his pocket, uncapping a pen with one hand and scribbling a number on Lavi’s in tall, neat, looping letters. “I don’t know,” Doug finally answers, looking down at Lavi’s hand pointedly. He finishes and looks back up, eyes looking a bit concerned but his ears tipped with red. “Maybe, ask again later? Right now I’m too cold and wet to think about it.”

Lavi laughs and steps out of the elevator. “Fair enough. I guess I’ll talk to you later.” He turns and walks away before he can see if Doug responds again. He feels weirdly fluttery. He hadn’t meant much by asking Doug out to coffee other than that he ought to maybe make friends at this school as quickly as he can. Not real friends, mind you, but the sort of… sweet naive ones like Doug that probably wouldn’t mind Lavi trying to figure out which persona to project. But now he feels like there is a heavier implication than he meant to make and he too is embarrassed. Vidya warned him about this. He can feel chastisement from a thousand miles away.

It is only when Lavi is brushing his teeth that night— changed into pajamas, hair sagging with wet from the shower— that he realizes he doesn’t even have a cell phone yet. He pauses, looking at his own expression of astonishment and sudden frustration in the mirror.

What was he even— _why did he_ —

"UuuuUUGH."

Lavi falls to the ground, slumping against the wall of the adjoined bathrooms. One of his suitemates pokes his head out his door. “Are you okay?”

"Noooooo," Lavi whines. He continues, after a beat, to brush his teeth dejectedly, and his suitemate decides in that moment that he should ignore this man for the rest of the year.

Which is probably for the best.


End file.
